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Updated: May 16, 2025
It was, she felt, a great thing to have snatched the deepest gladness of life in such an hour, and to have received an avowal from a man who believed that he was about to die for her. And what a man! The thought of Miskodeed occurred to her; but now it did not trouble her very greatly.
He would kill more than thee to win them." "And the the man who is with me?" A little flash came in the girl's dark eyes. "That man " she said in a voice that had an edge like a knife, "tell me, is she thy squaw?" "Then you know, Miskodeed?" he said, with a quick feeling of shame. "I know that man is the bright-faced woman who came to Fort Malsun. Tell me, is she thy squaw?"
The flame that had leapt in her dark eyes at their first meeting burned once more, and where, but for an interruption, the conversation would have drifted can only be conjectured. But at that precise moment the tall Indian called to her. "Miskodeed." The girl moved swiftly to him and with a gesture that was almost royal the Indian pointed to a pile of trade goods heaped upon the long counter.
Someone with Jean Bènard?" "No," answered Stane slowly, "it was the Indian girl, Miskodeed." "Miskodeed!" cried Helen in utter surprise. "Yes! I did not know it at the time, but we found her afterwards, Jean Bènard and I. It was a dreadful discovery. Jean had come back to his cabin, hoping to marry her, and she had died for me!" "Oh," sobbed Helen in a sudden accession of grief.
The cry brought Jean Bènard from the hut at a run. "What ees it, m'sieu?" he asked as he reached Stane who knelt there as if turned to stone. "It is a dead girl," answered Stane, brokenly "a girl who gave her life for mine." The trapper bent over the prostrate form, then he also cried out. "Miskodeed!" "Yes! Miskodeed. I did not know it was she!
Though she could see nothing through the tiny aperture so made, she knew, as certainly as if she herself had been standing in the tepee, that Miskodeed was watching them with interested eyes. Unconsciously she drew herself upright, and flashed a challenging glance towards the invisible spectator, visioning the Indian girl's wild beauty and matching it, as a jealous woman will, against her own.
We bury Miskodeed in zee air; an' when zee spring winds blow an' the ground grow soft again, I dig a grave. Now eef m'sieu ees ready we will haf zee words of religion." Stane, almost choked at the poignant irony of the thing, then shaped his lips to the great words that would have been strange if not unmeaning to the dead girl. "I am the resurrection and the life.
"Yes," he answered gaily. "That is true. And I think that, however beautiful Miskodeed may be, or others like her, their beauty cannot compare with that of English women." "You think that?" she cried, and then laughed with sudden gaiety as she rose to her feet. "But this is not a debating class, and I've work to do a house to build, a meal to cook a hundred tasks appealing to an amateur.
"It was that Indian girl who was up at Fort Malsun!" "Miskodeed!" cried Helen. "That I believe was her name. She looked on Stane as her lover, and she did you the honour of being jealous of you!" Ainley laughed as he spoke. "Absurd, of course But what will you? The primitive, untutored heart is very simple in its emotions and the man was her paramour!" "It is a lie!" cried Helen hotly.
She remembered his declaration that he had never seen Miskodeed except on the two occasions at Fort Malsun, and though Ainley's evil suggestions recurred to her mind, she dismissed them instantly. Her lover was her own The sledge came to a sudden standstill; and lying there she caught a clamour of excited voices.
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